


Nagroan

by venomedveins



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: M/M, SEX MARATHON FIC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomedveins/pseuds/venomedveins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agron gets banished for a week to a storage hut. Nasir goes along to keep him company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nagroan

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I want to thank everyone who submitted kinks and were super supportive during my writing process.
> 
> I'm sorry it took so long. In the past three months, I've graduated college, got a job, and moved apartments. I've been ridiculously busy but now I'm back and ready to Nagron!
> 
> So enjoy and I hope everyone loves it and I worked really hard. If I forgot anything, I'm super sorry!

Spartacus views himself as a rational man. He is not too quick to anger, plans ahead, and is willing to give all men the benefit of the doubt – a chance to prove themselves. Yet, that being said, he can not tolerate insubordination or actions by his brothers that direct result in fear amongst the rebels. That is why he considers his hand forced in the matter concerning Agron.

The German has been particularly on edge the past few weeks, losing him temper more often than not. It began with short outbursts, shouting at training rebels with a harshness undeserved and shoving them out of the way when Agron saw fit. A few times, he was seen to be throwing things at people when they interrupted a conversation or stepped too close to him. It all was minimal, minor infractions that could be blamed on stress of Rome.

Spartacus can no longer ignore the mounting fury though. Action must be taken. In the past seven days, Agron's rage and impatient has caused the smashing of a least a dozen amphoras of wine, two splintered and ruined tables, as well as six newly freed rebel boys sporting dark bruises around their eye.

As tension mounted, it seemed nearly impossible for rebel leaders to come to agreement for every time Crixus opened mouth, Agron was cutting him off with harsh words. More than once Gannicus and Spartacus would have to separate the two of them.

When the rebel leader had approached Nasir, hoping to find some answer, he just gravely shook his head.

“There is no explanation. He even grows short with me. Two nights past, I took too long brushing my hair and he refused to talk to me the rest of the night.”

“You speak truth?” Spartacus had never heard something so irrational when pertaining to the German in question. Agron was one to be fueled on passion, but never with such little cause.

“He pushed me away. I slept on edge of bed until I could not stand such distance and begged for his forgiveness.” Nasir explained, eyes slowly blinking. “I begged forgiveness for taking too long on running comb through hair. Spartacus, you must do something.”

With an actual slight fear of the imposing gladiator's rage, Spartacus knew that for the sake of rebellion he could not let Agron continue this way. It was act of desperation that led newly formed plan.

\- - -

“You lose fucking sense.” Agron shouted, storming from inner room of villa. Rebels scattered along steps, fleeing onto dirt of training field.

“You cause tension and fear within camp. It is only way I see able to soothe situation.” Spartacus follows closely, face grim.

“You fucking banish me because few barely freed slaves think I am too harsh? Should I coddle them to breast when they fail to raise sword and block?” Agron snarls, turning to glare at the rebel leader.

“I do not aim to banish nor cause wound on pride,” Spartacus soothes, “I simply seek to offer break from struggles of this life.”

Agron has harsh reply ready, tip of tongue like whip, but Spartacus' brotherly hand on his shoulder stops him.

“Take Nasir. Hidden shed is far enough you will have privacy. Imagine it as reward for excellent service to me and cause and not as punishment.”

“You send me on mission into abandoned shack to spend week with Nasir? I fail to see your request as-” Agron starts but Spartacus raises his hand.

“It is not a request Agron. You are to go.”

Agron sets jaw, teeth grinding uncomfortably as he nods once. He won't ignore direct order from Spartacus, even though anger is burning in his head. He throbs with it. To be chastised as if child.

“Go now. Find Nasir and go. You should reach destination before sunset. Others on patrol will pass buy and give supplies.”

Agron nods again, fingers curling into tight fists as he turns. Others' eyes are on him, confused and afraid, but they move quickly out of his way. He isn't exactly even sure where he's going, but he manages to avoid everyone until he's past main gathering. With each step, the anger seems to become more and more center till Agron's jaw aches.

Rounding sharp corner, Agron nearly slams into Duro who is lounging against wall. The younger German startles, back peddling away from his fuming older brother. He had thankfully been successful at avoiding Agron these past days but it seems luck ran dry.

“Where is Nasir?” Agron snaps, eyes darting around Duro as if he is invisible..

“Greetings to you, brother” Duro reply drips sarcasm, but his grin quickly falls at look upon brother's face.

“Where _is_ Nasir?”

Agron repeats it, but he's already moving past the younger man – unwilling to wait for answer. Duro makes a grab to stop him, find source of such animosity, but is saved as Nasir moves gracefully out from a doorway down the corridor. Hands full of parchment, he doesn't even notice the pair until Agron moves towards him with pounding steps.

“Agron!”

Nasir's face pulls into guarded smile, pulling parchment up as if shield to chest.

“Follow me. We are away.”

Agron's hand wraps tightly around Nasir's wrist, tugging.

“Away? I have duties yet to be done and words to exchange-”

Papers scatter across the floor and Nasir's huge eyes swim into Duro's view – confused but never afraid of the glowering German before him. Yet Duro can not reassure nor give cause to his brother's rash decision. He does bend to pick up the lists of supplies they have, nodding to Nasir as if symbol of keeping them safe until his return.

“Your duties are canceled as of today.” Agron's voice is gruff and hissing through clenched teeth.

“Canceled? What has come over you? Agron! Do not lead me away as if I am small child to-”

Nasir is cut off as Agron rounds corner, pressing him tightly to the stones. Wind leaves Nasir in rush as he stares at the gladiator with wide eyes. He is unsure yet what he has done to cause such actions, afraid that he has caused wound inconsolable, when Agron's mouth descends on his own.

It's not gentle, nor a greeting either, but hot and insistent probing of Agron's tongue against the seam of Nasir's lips. He gives up easily, parting mouth to allow the more intimate press of Agron's tongue nearly tracing his tonsils. Teeth click between lay of lips and Agron plants his into soft fold of Nasir's bottom on, tugging and tugging until Nasir feels skull lift from wall to follow movement. He finally releases the flesh with a soft pop, and Nasir can feel the skin begin to swell – bruised from harshness of Agron's own.

“I have purpose for you. Spartacus sends me from sights and you are to be my companion.”

“He banishes you?” Nasir gasps, unbelieving that rebel leader would be so harsh.

“For few days time. I apparently have stuck fear into the heart of those around me and are unfit to be within camp.” Agron's mouth is hot against Nasir's ear as he continues to stroke the Syrian's collarbones, “I refuse to be exiled without your company.”

“But-”

Nasir can not speak nor finish thought because Agron has kissed him again, seeming to suck the very air from his lungs. He digs his fingers into Agron's shoulders, raising on his toes to reciprocate, canines nearly drawing blood on Agron's top lip.

“We are to leave now.”

\- - -

Road to destination is through wood some distance from villa wall. They had prepared in silence; Nasir packing few essentials in weapons and clothes. Agron had aided in forcing Nasir to pack away large bottle of oil with a snide grin and raising of eyebrow. Nasir had failed to come up with comment, only blushed and turned quickly.

They walk together, only crunch of feet on leaves and calling of birds to fill void between them. Nasir is unsure of how to begin conversation. Though Agron seems better, not as angry, his mouth is set in firm line. He doesn't look prone to conversation, yet Nasir would not have whole vacation from rebellion continue on like this.

“If you stomp any louder, I am afraid you will cause ground to shake beneath us.”

Nasir gives the gladiator a side glance, biting on bottom lip to suppress grin. Brows lowered to create wrinkles across his smooth forward, Agron glances over at him in return.

“I'm not stomping.”

“You are as if scolded child denied honey cakes before bed.”

The large gladiator stops then, turning sharply to look at Nasir. His mouth puckers in distaste, as if drinking from bitter fruit. Nasir's giggle rings out loud and sure – unable to suppress the sound at adorable look on Agron's face.

“You speak falsely. I just aim to reach-”

“Hush.”

Nasir winds his fingers through leather strings around Agron's neck, tugging on them to connect their mouths. Agron growls, annoyed at being interrupted. He tangles his fingers into Nasir's hair in retaliation, tugging firmly to pull him back far enough Agron can move his mouth to down to his Adam's Apple as Nasir pants for breath.

The first bite to the flesh sends shivers piercing through Nasir's thighs, a straggled noise echoing in the stillness around them. Part of him knows he should keep quiet. There could be Romans lurking among the trees, but Agron's hand wraps securely around the bottom of Nasir's throat and he fails to find his senses.

He doesn't squeeze exactly but secures a weight against Nasir's collarbones that feels heavier than any collar he's ever worn. It's not of power though, or a show of ownership (though Nasir knows they own each other) but a reminder. A remind that Agron is in control. He has Nasir. He desires Nasir and will fill Nasir's cup and run over – bringing them higher and higher until they float around each other in ecstasy.

Carding his hands through Agron's hair, he arches up into the man's mouth, back bending so that the gladiator follows – nearly toppling over. They're going too fast; Agron raising welts and violent red bruises all over Nasir's chest as he bites into him viciously. Nasir can't be phased though, resorting to half choked moans.

His cock throbs within his thin pants, straining against the fabric. Nasir goes from soft to hard fast enough to make his head spin, especially when Agron's fingers teasingly brush the head – creating a spot on the fabric.

“Nasir. Nasir. _Nazir_.”

Agron pulls back, large hand gripping the Syrian's jaw, pulling him closer before pushing him slightly away. Nasir blinks slowly, confused and gasping, watching the slow drag of Agron's thumb along his bottom lip.

“Come with me, little man. We must get off road.”

Agron's grip moves to Nasir's wrist, pulling him through the line of trees until they stumble into a small gathering of low bushes and ferns. He guides Nasir down, but the tan hand on his chest stops him. Nasir doesn't need to say anything, after so many months of staring into depths – Agron is versed in Nasir's most intimate desires.

Few yards behind, Donar moves slightly between the trees. Fearing for his friend after shouting rampage drew attention, the German followed the pair out of safety of rebellion. 

He does not trust the Syrian to be able to handle Agron when he is of this mood. Donar is versed in it – knows the German way of honor and guilt. Pride is damaged, but what would a common house slave know of such? What could Nasir possibly offer to the fuming German?

Dropping bag to side, Agron falls to his knees, trailing kisses down Nasir's chest and stomach as he does so. It's a wet drag, and Agron wishes nothing more than to be able to take his full time, but they are in woods. They are too open, and he cannot risk safety of beloved to satisfy cock.

Instead, Agron carefully unties the fabric of his vest, unveiling smooth tan skin hardening up by countless hours of training upon dirt. With one solid tug on the fabric, he manages to pull Nasir to his knees as well, gently guiding him back to lay down.

"Make haste and stretch yourself for me," Agron pants against Nasir's mouth before rearing up to untie belt and subligaria.

"I am ready for you."

Nasir blushes, glancing to the side in his bashfulness. In past few days, Nasir had avoided being awake when Agron came into room - or at least responsive. It wasn't that he didn't crave the German. He did as if Agron was water, but Nasir was guilty of punishing himself when he thought he had done wrong. Until this point, he was sure he was cause of Agron's frustration.

"When?"

Sticks and hard clumps of earth were digging into Agron's knees, but they are minor aches to the sharp, tangible pain that whipped through him.

"I-" Nasir swallows, "I did not want to bother with request this morning. You left in such state, already angry, and I thought it burden."

"It is no chore to bring you pleasure."

Agron makes sure to tilt Nasir's jaw up to meet gaze. He rubs his thumb along Nasir's bruised bottom lip, pulling the flesh down slightly when the Syrian goes to speak.

"You have ruined me, completely. My own touch cannot compare to yours."

It's permission, and Agron will not waste it. He pulls cloth from Nasir with practiced ease, spreading smooth thighs and settling between. Nasir's cock curves up flushed and proud against his stomach, leaking smears of white against his tan skin. It's distracting and gorgeous - pausing Agron for moments.

Leaning down, he drags his tongue through the mess, tasting Nasir as he tests truth of how stretched he is. He did not lie, body yielding easily for Agron's probing fingers. Yet, Agron knows it will always be tight fit.

Donar can feel face heating with couple's display. Though he does not trust black eyed Syrian, he can not deny that Nasir is lovely – comparable to Eros himself. Agron must be ensnared by such to waste time on child of a boy. 

Yet.

Donar cannot deny and is surprised by swelling of cock in subligaria. It is not Nasir that holds such attention though. It is Agron. Thick, powerful killing machine of a gladiator. How can Donar deny such ferocity stirs him to needing pleasure?

Pressing heel of hand to base of cock, Donar watches the coils of Agron's back as he moves over his lover. Donar wishes to take Syrian's place, to let the larger man within thighs. Agron's cock is unmatched within mortal world, and sight of the red, veined flesh has Donar pulling subligaria down to grasp his own. 

Nasir's scrambling nails across Agron's back tells him that the little Syrian will not wait much longer - moaning loudly in the stillness of the forest. Agron can forgo the extra prep if only to hear Nasir make those desperate hiccups once more.

The first slide is all gasping breath and widening eyes. Nasir pulls his knees up, tucking them tightly around Agron's broad chest - forcing them wider than before and Agron sinks in the last inch with a moan that vibrates down into Nasir's body.

There is no pause.

Nasir can't breathe, hands scrambling to find purchase among leaves and dirt. There is nothing solid to sink his fingers into though, dragging across the earth in harsh jerks from Agron's thrusts. Agron seems to have grown and expanded, smothering Nasir in heat and musk as if blanket of skin. It’s an all-encompassing fever that forces him to push Nasir down only to raise him for a slow drag of his mouth over Nasir’s.

“Fuck the gods!”

Agron growls it out against Nasir’s tingling lips, thrusting hard enough to knock the wind out of the smaller man. The combination of the soft earth beneath him, leaves tickling and scratching at his skin – it forces the animal side of Agron forward and before he knows or can make conscious effort to decide, he’s pulling out of Nasir and flipping the smaller man onto his knees.

Donar's hand moves furiously over his skin, matching his strokes to that of Agron's thrusts. He can image the German's thick fingers inside of him, wrapped around his cock, filling his mouth with taste of skin and sweat. 

Nasir’s back is one long streak of dirt, smeared from sweat along his ribs as if war paint. His once tidy and perfectly braided hair has come unraveled, ensnared with leaves and clumps of branches. Agron cannot help but be reminded of fairy stories he was once told as a child – enchanting creatures of the woods that wore little more than shrubs and vines.

Wrapping his huge hand into the trestles, Agron yanks hard, rewarding himself with a sharp yelp from Nasir. It doesn’t prohibit the other man’s movement, if anything Nasir pushes back greedily on Agron’s cock, neck bared and arched. It’s an invitation that Agron cannot ignore, nuzzling into the soft flesh before slowly licking a line up the tendon. He tastes like earth, but Agron can also make out the sharp tang of sweat.

“I am-!” Nasir whimpers, nails digging into the roots before him as he arches back against Agron in frantic pushes, “Can I? I beg of you.”

“You wish to reach completion, little man?” Agron bites at Nasir’s earlobe, suckling on the skin.

“Do not call me that!” Nasir jerks away and the action earns him a sharp slap to his ass.

“Do you wish to reach completion? Or should I remove fucking option from you?”

“I cannot do it without your aid.”

It’s then that Agron notices Nasir’s fist moving frantically beneath them, sticky with precome and spit. Agron takes pity on him, if only for the selfish pleasure of watching Nasir come undone beneath his hands. Lightly smacking his hand away, Agron wraps his own in Nasir’s place.

Donar does not wish to be the first to reach completion, but sight is too much. Agron's slick body inspires shudders up and down the other man's spine, coaxing him into his end. Donar buries moan in forearm, trying to stay silent as to not alert the pair. He is drown out by noises before him though. 

Nasir cries out, disturbing a few birds resting in tree above them. Agron nearly loses grip upon writhing man, but manages to sink fingers tighter into his hair, yanking him back and up. Ink black ropes that curl tightly around his fingers as if reins on wild horse. Agron does not miss opportunity, twisting fist at unexpected stroke and Nasir is reduced to snapped bow.

His seed splatters across leaves, staining what once was green as white. He nearly falls, and would, if Agron's grip had not kept him on his knees and face from dirt. His own cock throbs within the suddenly tighter confines of Nasir's body, nearly there but not enough.

Keeping one arm across Nasir's chest, he keeps him close and ruts into him. It's not full thrusts but sharp pushes against Nasir that avoids prostate and aims only to bring Agron to much needed end.

Nasir plants nails in back of Agron's neck for balance, letting the other use him as if toy instead of man. He would see the gladiator reach heavens and join him in bliss. Nasir's own body tingles with every after shock, cock hanging soft between his thighs.

It is not long before Agron implants his teeth into Nasir's shoulder blade, thrusting up and holding as completion over takes him. He can feel it coating intimate channel of Nasir, hot and dripping along his thighs. Feeling of too hot and too cold at once, Agron gently pushes Nasir off of him and to the side, laying him down amongst the leaves of the ferns.

Donar can not stand affection that will surely follow this, and turns quickly to leave. Yet, as he retreats to rebellion's camp, he can not erase image of taught skin on Agron's powerful body, strung tight on final thrust. 

Agron is unable to notice anything but man before him. He is beautiful, dark smudge amongst the green. Naked and gleaming in the setting sunlight, his skin appears as if spun from gold – a true gift from above. Covered in earth, Nasir can only blink slowly up at Agron, licking lips and tasting the German across his mouth. Agron continues to stare for few moments, basking in image a pleasured Nasir makes. Yet, moment ends with involuntary laughter escaping Agron's throat.

“You find laughing tongue?” Nasir asks confused, pushing self up onto elbows.

“You appear truly as wild dog now.”

He affectionately pulls a leaf from side of Nasir's head, discarding it to the side, eying the smear of dirt and come on the Syrian's stomach. Nasir seems to realize appearance and groans, dragging his hands across chest with look of disgust.

“You do not appear as descending from fucking heavens, either.”

He grumbles, scrambling to stand. It is such haughty look upon face that Agron has to smother grin into hand to avoid being seen. Nasir still eyes him with raised brow, lips forming into pout as he grabs clothes. Agron stays on his knees, watching slow slide of Nasir redressing. He wishes to remove cloth again, but knows that night is falling. They must reach shelter and safety of hidden place.

“You could be covered in nothing yet mud and leaves, and I would still stand in awe of your beauty,” Agron murmurs against Nasir's temple, kissing his hair there.

“You would become distracted by lack of covering on cock, not beauty.”

Nasir stumbles away, grin stretching across his face as Agron shoulders bag, following him. Nasir barely catches muttered confession, yet words reach ears.

“Only thing that would ever stall cock from rising at sight of you is if the gods cursed you to be a fucking woman.”

They continue on path, Agron's mouth no longer curled into snarl of discontent. It is of note that Agron can be so soothed by Nasir's presence. Even glance from thickly veiled eyes can bring pause to lashing of Agron's tongue. He can not imagine time when Nasir's calming breath should exist in storm of Agron's fury. He is as necessary to the German as rain to land.

In moment of tenderness, Agron finds his hand reaching out for the Syrian's, tangling their fingers together as if clasp. It fills heart with burning to see blush spread across Nasir's cheeks – so new to signs of free affection. Agron finds look of bewilderment and shy affection upon Nasir's face reason to continue to fight for freedom.

They are nearly to place of banishment when Nasir suddenly stops walking. Agron turns, expecting to see him fearful but instead, Nasir stands scratching at flaking stomach with look of disgust.

“We are almost to place Spartacus described.” Agron soothes, tugging gently on their clasped hands.

“Yet,” Nasir points to their left where trees break and small stream trickles into larger pool of glistening water.

“We should reach destination first.”

Agron turns to walk, but Nasir plants his feet firmly – refusing to move. The German knows he could force body. Nasir is compact but surprisingly light, and Agron has thrown him over his shoulder on more than one occasion. Yet he does not wish to harm him.

"I appear as if forest whore. I will not retire until I am properly set back to previous state."

"Nasir, hour grows late. I wish only to see us away from prying eye before wood goes dangerous with darkness."

"I will be quick. If only to remove brambles from hair and your seed from thighs."

Nasir jerks away, quickly moving through grass and between trees. He is as if darting moth among trees. Agron curses quietly under his breath, promising self to give Nasir proper punishment for rash actions, following him with more careful steps.

He does pause for a moment though when reaching pool and watching Nasir once again undress. Agron's cock stirs at slow reveal of Nasir's supple ass, perfectly sculptured by Venus herself like bowing of a heart. The soft curve of it leading down to smooth thighs that Agron wishes to always be between. The dimples upon lower back that fit Agron's fingers as if handles, meant to cradle and direct movement when cock is buried deep enough in Nasir's body it feels as if they will melt together.

"Do you aim to stare all evening? Or will you aid in removal of dirt?" Nasir glances over his shoulder, and Agron can feel his cock throbbing again.

"I would watch you, for fear of prying eyes."

Agron lowers himself onto small boulder, motioning with hand for the smaller, pouting man to continue. Still with back turned, Nasir sinks into the water until it laps against his stomach. A soft moan escapes him as he drags his fingers across his chest, the water near Nasir turning a dull brown. Agron can feel his cock beginning to harden, watching the water slide along Nasir’s toned back, yet fear of their discovery could be great. There are always scouts around – waiting to happen across part of Spartacus’ men. 

Agron cannot help though becoming distracted when Nasir slides under the water, appearing moments later with flattened hair and water in his eyes. He rubs at them as if small child and Agron is nearly floored by amount of affection that races through him at display. 

Nasir ruins innocent act moment later as Agron watches hand disappear between thighs. It’d be easily ignored if not for deliberate gaze he holds with the German. Nasir gives a quiet sigh, nose wrinkling slightly as fingers probe his ass, trying to clean the evidence of past moments. He cannot lie to himself though. He desires feeling of Agron inside him always – his seed dripping down his thighs in rivulets. 

He slides two fingers in, feeling how his body easily opens for the intrusion. Agron’s cock is bigger than Nasir has ever seen, and he is familiar with many body types. It’s not just length though. Nasir’s jaw aches but mouth waters when he thinks of the girth of it, the way it spreads full lips tight to get it inside. The way the foreskin pushes back when he strokes it and licks across the head. 

Thoughts overcloud his mind, and before Nasir can realize sense, he is thrusting fingers against his hole, eyes staring up at canopy of stars above him. He should hurry, a voice reminds him in back of mind. He told Agron he would not take long, but he cannot help becoming ensnared of fantasy. 

“Did you think I would stand idle to such display?” Agron’s teeth are suddenly there, dragging along the soft curve of Nasir’s ear. 

The German turns him around easily, hands drifting down curve over Nasir’s ass to push his fingers away. He takes a moment to grope the flesh, feeling the weight and fullness in his palms. Agron swears that poems have been sung for the perfect shape of Nasir’s ass. He can’t full appreciate it when it’s underwater though, so he gripes hard before jerking up to wrap Nasir’s legs around his waist. 

“I aimed only to wash you from within me.” Nasir moans, fingers gripping Agron’s shoulders as if life line. 

“For what purpose? When you know that I will once again fill you in short time.”

The Syrian is hard, straining up against his stomach in a flush of red, but Agron ignores it for more pressing matters. He makes sure grip on Nasir is secure before letting fingers trail between legs, testing. Never one for patience, he doesn’t start easy, but instead, slips three fingers into him to watch Nasir’s mouth fall open in shock and pleasure. 

Nasir can see the moon growing brighter, sparkling on the water as if omen. Whether it is good or not, Nasir does not have ability to concentrate on. It causes shadows to fall across Agron's face, hiding his eyes but not snarl. Bracing himself with legs around Agron, Nasir lets go slowly, laying back against the water. It's easier for Agron to push into him like this, crooking his finger and stroking his prostate.

Agron watches Nasir's stomach contract, coiling muscles turned hard with every brush of pleasure. It's addicting and Agron can not stop. Even when Nasir wraps his hand around his leaking cock, and Agron moves to replace it with his own, he can't look away. 

“Did pleasure exist before you? I don't believe it to be so,” Nasir mumbles, arms thrown above his head. 

He is a siren, wooing Agron closer to kiss his trembling mouth. It is for taste but also to silence the whimpers spilling from him. Nasir is incapable of keeping noises at bay when Agron is within him.

"Let go." Agron whispers into Nasir's mouth, holding his jaw between long fingers.

Nasir muffles howl in Agron's hair, body curling up out of the water to coil around the larger man. Agron continues to stroke him through it, watching the ropes of white land within the black water, stark against the darkness. Nasir's broken sobs bring him out of his musing, Agron rubbing his back gently.

"Hush, Nasir. You are safe. You are within my grasp."

He lets him whimper for a few more minutes, soothing his shaking body before pushing Nasir away from him. Rubbing a hand across his cheek, Agron leans forward to kiss his nose gently. He knows the pleasure was too close together, weakening Nasir and shocking him. He knows Nasir same as back of hand though, and he will recover. 

Agron moves them slowly to bank, keeping firm hand on Nasir's elbow to steady him as he reaches for clothes. Agron waits to dress himself, refastening his shoes with careful precession. 

"You appear as if asleep upon feet." Agron teases, kissing the top of Nasir's damp head. 

"Perhaps I am." Nasir grins through the words, "If I am though, I would not seek to awaken from such dreams as these."

Agron nuzzles against Nasir one last time before reaching for cloak and subligaria. He is just fastening his sword belt when Nasir startles besides him. 

"What is-"

Agron can barely make out before a sharp elbow connects with his ribs, sending him down and to the side. He gives a shout, but it is lost as he topples, boulder breaking jaw's fall as Agron crashes to earth. 

Nasir springs into action then, yanking Agron's sword from his side and swinging with a growl. It is much longer than Nasir's own sword, and the weight of it throws Nasir's balance off, but he will not let that deter him. 

Agron doesn't have the chance to realize what's wrong before hot, foul smelling blood splatters across his arm. Trying to regain breath, he turns onto his back to see Nasir yanking sword from armor clad Roman. The body falls to the side, but Nasir does not flinch, only steps towards Agron with look of concern. 

“You bleed.”

He gently grasps Agron's chin, directing his head to the side to look at the wound. It's not deep, barely breaking skin, but it's red enough that Nasir knows it will bruise. They both had had worse, yet it causes frustration to know they were so distracted Roman shit managed to sneak up on them. Sighing, he presses his lips against it, and Agron is staring at him when he pulls back. 

“You're covered in such.” 

Without thinking, Agron slowly drags his tongue across the sharp bone of Nasir's jaw, wiping away streak of red. The bitter taste of copper clings to his tonsils, making him nip at the flesh tenderly before pulling away. It is no surprise that Agron's blood lust and lust for flesh are easily entwined - a fact that Nasir is very familiar with. 

"Do you think him to be scout?"

Nasir keeps his hand on Agron's neck, glancing over his shoulder at the Roman. He doesn't appear to be significant, same armor as most in the general army. Yet it begs question of purpose this close to rebel encampment. 

Agron stands slowly, moving to kick foot into Roman's side. It best to check for signs of life than to have Roman fuck surprise them again. He doesn't move, dead from accurate stab wound, and Agron feels a rush of pride when he bends to pick up his sword. Faith in Nasir's abilities proves true. 

"Purpose is unclear. Horse tracks indicate he must have been traveling from a distance. Messenger perhaps?"

Nasir looks carefully around dark wood, feeling a creeping sense that they are not alone. Carefully, so as not to alert someone if they were being watched, Nasir slips his fingers between Agron's. It's a simple comfort, knowing that Agron won't separate them unless completely necessary. 

"Come, let us hide body and find shelter." 

\- - - 

Storage shack is not much larger than room within villa, smelling faintly of wheat and dust. It's square cut with one large window in back covered by a thin curtain. Under it, someone has placed a large bed covered in blankets and fine cloth, next to which sits a small table filled with candles. Most surprising feature is large basil shoved against corner, two buckets next to be used to gather water for bath. 

Agron is instantly angry again though when they enter small oasis. Preparation means Spartacus knew of plan to banish Agron for a while, yet continued on as if matters between them were content. He should have broken words with Agron sooner, and not done such things behind back. 

He thought after all this time of loyalty and brotherhood that Spartacus would have held Agron more in esteem and trust. He did not move to cause injury to rebels, but aid in their training. If they could not learn by soft hand, then Agron was willing to offer stricter blow. If they bow under pressure, perhaps they did not deserve their freedom. 

Nasir does not seem to notice, or if he does, does not warrant mounting fury with notice. He is sure of Agron breaking words soon enough. Instead, he moves past the German, using moonlight spilling from doorway to see and light candles. Body sore and ready for sleep, he begins to remove clothes, yawning all the while.

"Do you plan to just retire and not address what has just happened by water's edge?" Agron bites out, tossing bag upon bed and moving to remove cloak. 

"If you think I wish to rehash slaying of faceless Roman, I do not," Nasir grumbles, tossing sandles to side. 

Agron finds himself stepping towards the Syrian, but pauses as last of Nasir's cloth reaches floor. He can feel throbbing in skull, result of too much rage and too little wine. 

"Your risking of life over steps reason," Agron hisses, turning Nasir sharply to face him. 

"How was I to know such man would be upon same road?" Nasir replies, moving to grab flowing cloth from bed and hide his nakedness from chill. 

"Did I not speak words of caution that night was falling? Yet you did not head my warning and instead went running through woods as if child."

Agron watches the scarlet fabric drag along Nasir's chest, nipples pebbled in the night air. He wishes to press his mouth over them, suck them to full attention through cloth and watch Nasir squirm. 

"I am not a child," Nasir nearly shouts, mouth hanging open, "If it were not for your fit of anger, we would not be beyond villa walls!"

"I was not angry unless justly caused!" Agron yells and Nasir flinches, back of thighs hitting edge of bed. 

"If you aim to take bed with me, you would be wise to not raise voice as such," Nasir hisses, "Did I not follow you from comfort of our bed, warm fire and food, to keep company in your punishment? I can easily return to villa and leave you with loose hand!"

Agron's hand shoots out, gripping Nasir's shoulder and easily flipping him, pressing him down until Nasir's chest hits the soft blankets. There is no room for argument as Agron lifts cloth from Nasir's ass and gives first blow upon smooth, tan flesh. 

Nasir jolts under the slap, whimpering loudly as Agron begins staccato pattern. He can't move, held in place by Agron's large palm and the need for this. It's so good, sharp pleasure of Agron's fingers groping and then smack smooth flesh.

"You are aim to leave me? To retreat back to our cold bed alone?" Agron hisses through his teeth, landing a particularly hard smack to the plump part of Nasir's ass. 

“I could! I could!” Nasir pants, arching his back and leaning into the next smack. 

“Do you think so?” Agron growls within Nasir's ear, “Do you think I would let you leave into dark forest alone? To let you get taken by any sort of animal out there?”

“You're the animal,” Nasir shoots back. Agron does not relent for some time, with growl he begins his smacks again, causing tan flesh to turn to crimson. 

“You fucking test patience.” Agron hisses, pausing a moment to rub his fingers between the reddened cheeks of his ass. Nasir's hole is loose and stretched, but Agron will not test it. Not yet.

“ _General_ ,” Nasir presses the back of his head to Agron's shoulder, calling pet name that weakens the German's knees,“Your harsh tone causes wound. Why would you be so cruel to me? Have I not been a good for you?”

“You yet talk back to me as in unruly child. You put self in danger. You try and push me away.” Agron lists each with a sharp bite to Nasir's shoulder. “Do you think this is good effort? What is a commanding officer such as myself to do with such troublesome solider?”

“Punish me.” 

Nasir whispers it, breath ghosting across Agron's cheek as he gazes up through his eyelashes. Agron's cock twitches violently inside his subligaria.

He knows Nasir only requests such when he is feeling particularly needy – usually caused by too close calls in battle. Perhaps idea of Roman shit sneaking upon them during intimate moment had rattled Nasir too much. Agron will of course give Nasir any reassurance he requires, even if it is in violent use of their bodies entwining. 

“Put self upon bed,” Agron smirks, fingers flexing on soft curve of Nasir's ass, “on hands and knees.”

Nasir pulls himself up, angling his body until head is above pillows, red cloth falling to side. His ass is burning, feeling skin taught and strained as he spreads his thighs. His balls are heavy, cock not ready yet to fill. He wishes to sleep and wonders if Agron will forgive him if he rests for just few moments. The gladiator could be within him if he so chose to. 

Agron moves behind him as if large cat, body coiling with each slow movement as he drags himself onto blankets. He eyes the clearly weary man before him; Nasir's dark eyes glint when he looks over his shoulder, and Agron is struck with better idea. 

“Let me sleep within you.”  
“What?” 

Nasir is too sleepy to register full sentence, confused and wanting to place head upon soft pillows below. 

“Let me sleep within you so that fumbling fingers will not have struggle to stretch you when cock fills in morning light.”

He lets himself be led down, Agron large and warm hand between his shoulder blades guiding his chest to the blankets. Nasir can feel his body gaping, still stretched from before. It does not stop the German from slipping his thumb along Nasir's hole, teasing the skin gently with a tug. 

Agron watches in awe as Nasir's body clenches before opening again, as if inviting him inside. He does not deny himself, pushing inside to the warm heat. His cock throbs, seeming to be directly tied to his thumb as it brushes over Nasir's prostate.

The Syrian moans softly, but doesn't move. He is not sure even if he could, finding effort just with supporting knees under him. Shifting a little, Nasir spreads his thighs even further, sighing as tip of Agron's cock drags along the back of his thighs. 

“Agron,” Nasir whispers, eyes closed against the too bright light of the candles.

Pulling his thumb slowly from within Nasir, Agron kisses his the knob at the top of his spine before sliding cock into him. The heat is nearly too much around him, cock wanting to keep pushing until Agron becomes one with Nasir. He stalls though as he bottoms out, grunting loudly. When he answers with noise of his own, it is Nasir's quiet snore that hit Agron's ear though. 

“Do you sleep when I am within you?” The German asks, brushing hair away from Nasir's passive face. 

He does not receive answer. 

Gently moving them onto their sides, Agron frowns with the way his cock begs for movement. Agron considers it for moment; Nasir's body relaxed and easily taken in such prone moment, but it would not be the same. Half of the pleasure is from hearing Nasir's desperation, hissing pleasure for more. 

“Sleep, little man,” Agron mumbles, pulling blankets around them both, “and rise to occasion in morning light.”

 

\- - - 

Nasir returns from bath on third day to Agron laying on back with thighs spread. He has contemplative look on face, bowl of oil balanced next to him. 

“I do not wish for you to fuck me.” Agron says quickly, shaking his head, “but perhaps-”

“Hush.”

Nasir crawls easily between powerful thighs, nuzzling wet nose against crease between groin and hip. He can feel Agron's cock throbbing next to him, sticking to hair with fluid. Still, Nasir takes his time with sucking bruises into the skin of Agron's pelvis, ignoring main flesh for some time. It's better this way, to work him up, coax him into needing it.

Agron is good, holding still and only tangling fingers into Nasir's hair as plea. He does not wish to have the other inside of him, not to be fucked or taken. He much prefers his position within Nasir's tight body. Yet, curiosity has gotten the best of him. 

Thoughts leave mind as Nasir's mouth descends upon cock, tip hitting throat. Nasir is expert at this. Agron does not wish to dwell on where such skill was learned, but instead uses such to reach highest pleasure. Agron has been with other men, both in Germania and in Rome, yet he is sure that no one has ever or will compare to perfect Syrian before him.

There is not inch of cock left unattended, either coaxed into trembles by tongue, lips, or fingers. Nasir keeps eyes trained to Agron's as he does it, retraining grin to keep teeth covered. He knows what this does to Agron, who at once becomes lost in suction and feeling of Nasir's long hair in hand. 

He is so distracted by perfect rhythm of sucking, he does not notice slick finger probing at tight opening. When tip of finger breeches him, Agron squirms, harshly breathing through his nose. Nasir draws back, crooking fingertip inside the other, feeling along the rim. 

“Relax. I was trained in this.”

Nasir kisses tip of cock, lapping at salty skin with special attention to the slit. He can feel Agron jerk against him, dribbling more as Nasir catches foreskin between fingers. He massages it, pulling it up and down to distract the German as first finger slides inside. 

Closing his eyes, Agron knows he is powerless against new pleasure, and trusts Nasir to not push too far. 

He is rewarded. 

\- - - 

Agron wakes from slumber to feeling of slow drag of wet tongue along chest, followed by something cooler after. He doesn't move yet, only allows the action to be repeated a few times. Thoughts of yesterday's rage forgotten as something sticky drizzles across Agron's hipbone. The German groans, lifting head slightly to gaze down upon top of Nasir's head. 

Sometime during the night, they must have become detached, yet Nasir perches a top him as if small pet, fitting perfectly in his lap. Cock twitches from sensation of smooth skin between Nasir's legs, warm grove perfectly formed to fit Agron in. 

Nasir drags piece of fig over tan skin again before following path with tongue, casting gaze up to meet the German's. He knew sensation would eventually stir him, but he had not expected stiffening of flesh so quickly. 

“You awaken and use me as plate?” Agron mumbled, voice rough as if stones. 

“Perhaps,” Nasir grins around bitten lip, sitting back, “we seem to be lacking.”

“In plates?” Agron rolls his hip, sliding cock against warm groove of Nasir's ass, “because I am overflowing with-”

“Agron? Nasir?”

Pounding on door startles them both, causing Nasir to scamper to the side, nearly dislodging bowl of fruit beside them. Agron shares glance with him, weary and hesitating to leave promise of Nasir's soft skin. He sighs loudly before standing, wrapping subligaria around himself as he yanks the door open. 

“Duro,” Agron greets, clapping his brother on the shoulder. 

“I come baring supplies,” Duro raises a jug of oil with lewd grin. 

“I will take it and let you be on your way,” Agron nods, reaching for the basket, but stops when a warm hand presses firmly to his back. 

“You would send own brother away before offering refreshments?” 

Nasir has wrapped blanket around himself, silky fabric laying loosely around hips and shoulders. His hair is still tousled from the bed, lips bruised. Duro's grin stretches even wider, clearly seeing the aftermath of the pair's night together. 

“He would be of better use back to camp. I would not wish to deprive Spartacus of worthy gladiator.” Agron stresses, eyes unable to remove their gaze from Nasir's bare shoulder. There is a kiss bruise upon the cusp of it, dark violet. 

“Nonsense,” Nasir reaches forward with one bare arm to grasp Duro's wrist, “Come inside. Let us share food and drink.”

Duro shrugs, allowing himself to be pulled within the small shack. He can not help the way cock stirs at swell of Nasir's ass barely hidden under thin material. It smells of sex, the air thick with it, but also sharp hint of fruit permeates. The younger German smirks down at Nasir, letting him lead him to sit near the bed. It is not first time Duro has noticed Nasir's beauty, but this is first that he has been so taken by it. 

Agron follows, grumbling to himself. Knowledge that Nasir is bare and probably still loose under crimson wrapping brings cock back to painful notice. He wishes only to see brother from sights and unclothe such appetizing meal. 

“Do you wish for fruit and bread?” Nasir gracefully perches himself upon stray pillow on floor, coverings falling open to expose smooth calf and thigh. 

“If supply is in enough bounty, I will not turn such away.” 

Duro feels a heat beginning to grow in pit of stomach as Nasir's tousled hair falls over bare shoulder. He glances at Agron, afraid his brother will be able to tell, but he's staring at Nasir with a look of utmost hunger. If Nasir notices the twin gazes, he doesn't react, only moves about splitting loaf of bread with hands. 

There is nothing else to do then watch the Syrian prepare the food, pouring wine and slicing fruit. Duro isn't sure if Agron's labored breath is what he can hear or his own. Tremor of fear over takes him as he feels cock beginning to stir in subligaria. It must be the scent of the room and sight of kiss bruises along the back of Nasir's shoulders. 

“Nasir, I fear he may-” Agron's words freeze upon tongue as the Syrian licks a finger, sucking away the juice of sliced fruit.

“What?”

He smirks, coy and beautiful, and Agron can not resist. Gripping Nasir's chin tightly, Agron yanks him forward to push tongue into confines of his mouth. Duro is close enough to see the way their lips fit together, moan reverberating between them. He makes aim to stand and leave them, cock flushed and pushing up, when Nasir pulls away. 

“Duro.”

It's a purr and command and invitation all at once. Nasir glances once at Agron from permission before moving onto knees and crawling towards the younger German. Wrappings fall away from him as he settles, wrapping arm around Duro's neck to pull him closer. With tentative movements, he presses forward, waiting for Duro to react. 

“Brother, I-” Duro looks at Agron desperately, both terrified and extremely enraptured at the same time. 

“There is no denying him when he is of this appetite.” Agron shrugs lightly, nodding again at Nasir who giggles and bites bottom lip. 

“Do you not want me?”

Nasir cocks head as if small child, curious and blushing. Agron fears that Duro will say the wrong words and damage Nasir's fragile ego, and moves behind the Syrian. Brushing his hair from long neck, he kisses skin there, eyes locked upon his brother. 

“Of course he does, little one. Duro just fears wrath of older brother.” 

Trailing fingers down Nasir's stomach, he wraps fist firmly around head of cock that peaks out from crimson fabric. Nasir hisses in response, arching hips towards Duro, eyes fluttering. The younger German can only gawk, hand lingering between them – wanting nothing more than to touch and taste. 

“What brother would I be if I did not share in bountiful meal?”

Agron's hand grips Duro's wrist, leaving Nasir's cock only to pull the other German's to replace his. He guides Duro's fingers to encircle the flesh, moving him through a few tight strokes that has Nasir whimpering loudly for more. 

“Kiss him, Duro.” Agron commands, keeping eye contact, “You will never taste anything sweeter.”

Duro needs no further prompting, sitting up higher to smash his mouth upon Nasir's. The Syrian lets him, mouth falling open pliantly as he rests the back of his head against Agron's shoulder. It's strange, kissing a man. Nasir's very light dusting of stubble is sharp against his own, lips fuller and easier to bite than any girl's. Duro finds the taste of him, sweet as if fruit with a tang that he realizes very quickly must be the remainder of his brother's seed. 

“Look at the way he begs for you,” Agron continues to goad the others along, moving hand to twist Nasir's nipple playfully, “Shall we spoil him?”

“Please,” Nasir pulls away to look at Agron, “I will please you both.”

“Duro?” Agron smirks, “What do you say?”

“I-” Duro stares at the head of Nasir's cock peaking out between his fist, “I would see you both to highest pleasure, if you allow such.”

Nasir grins, kissing first Agron's cheek and then Duro's. Thought of being between such strength and ability, Agron's firm chest and shoulders coupled with Duro's large hands and full mouth, has Nasir's cock leaking against his stomach. He can not deny that thought of such has crossed his mind a few times. 

Agron only lets him stay gleeful for just a few moments, before he grips the remains of the cloth covering Nasir and yanks it away. It dislodges Nasir, tumbling him forward and into Duro's lap. 

Duro catches him easily, cupping the smaller man's cheeks to press feverish kisses to his mouth. He can feel Nasir squirming against him, Agron's throaty chuckle behind, but loses sense of time and direction when Nasir's lips tremble a moan against his own. He's so small, compared to both Germans, easily overpowered and coaxed into pleasured noise. Duro never noticed before how soft Nasir's skin is, nor the curls in his hair, nor the way he can turn from fierce warrior into kittenish lover. 

Agron guides Nasir back from Duro for a moment, kissing him firmly before moving teeth to neck. Nasir yelps, hand tangling in Agron's hair as his eyes flutter closed. He continues his assault for a few moments, leaving angry red marks in his wake, before rising again. 

Twin pairs of eyes stare at Duro as Agron's lips move against Nasir's ear, a bright pink hue over taking his tan cheeks. Duro is taken aback by the seer danger within such looks. Agron has always been a man that should be feared, but Nasir – Nasir is something else. Entirely too exotic for Duro to grasp a handle upon. Duro has watched them both kill men and now he watches those lethal hands caress one another. 

With a sharp slap to his ass, Agron helps Nasir stand, admiring him from place upon knees. True curve of muscled body never fails to bring Agron to full hardness. Nasir does not turn to the older brother, but instead, reaches out his hand to Duro. The younger is caught off guard, unable to process thought outside of smooth scene of all of Nasir before him. 

“Join me upon bed,” Nasir encourages, tugging on Duro's wrist. 

Duro, always conscious of what thin line he walks upon, glances at Agron. 

“Do not fear, brother,” Agron smirks, rubbing hand between Nasir's thighs, “I will not let you do anything to him that displeases me. Let him give you pleasure.”

Duro does not hesitate again, standing and removing measly armor and subligaria. He is forced to pause untying his sandles to watch the slow slide of Nasir's legs across the bed when he climbs upon it. It exposes his opening, light pink skin that begs for Duro to be inside. He can see it is a little slick, flaky white marring the skin just below his ass. Duro realizes suddenly that he will never have that from the boy before him. Agron has staked his claim upon Nasir's heart but also his body. 

Nasir stays poised upon his knees, scooting until far edge of bed and motioning for the younger to take up freed space. He does, tentatively laying down upon back and aiding in Nasir straddling him. It is not that he is blushing virgin, but Duro has not ever laid with a man, let alone a man so devoted to older brother. He feels too small in his skin, fumbling teenage boy allowed first time under a skirt. 

“Relax,” Nasir murmurs in his ear, lips brushing the sensitive skin, “I will guide you through motions and you will reach highest pleasure many times before we let you leave this bed.”

Duro nods, eyes catching Agron's as he stands at foot of bed, head tilted slightly. He looks to be surveying situation, before sitting by Duro's feet. This is first time Agron has ever seen brother so unsure, tangling his fingers in Nasir's hair to pull him back for a kiss. It all changes when Nasir has thought to wrap fist around Duro's straining cock. 

The moan shakes the whole bed as Nasir jacks Duro's flesh as if it were extension of himself, sure in his grip and touch. He twists on the upstroke a few times, rubbing his thumb across the slit. Precome clings to the skin, and Nasir grins slowly as he lowers to taste it. 

“Fuck!” Duro's hips thrust up and Nasir does not miss opportunity. 

Keeping a hand on Duro's hip, he lowers to wraps his lips around the tip of the German's cock. He laves his tongue back and forth, fist twisting in opposite direction. Nasir can not help comparing the brothers, and though Duro is fairly long and thick, he is nothing in comparison to Agron's giant cock – far bigger than Nasir has ever seen. 

“He's made for this, Duro,” Agron comments, pulling Nasir's loose hair back away from his face, “Perfect cock sucking mouth. Don't you think?”

Duro can only helplessly nod, eyes slamming shut when he catches Nasir's gaze. He can feel his release already burning at the base of his spine, wanting nothing more than to thrust into tight vice around him. Agron gives him a warning glare though when he tries. 

Agron, for his part, lets the two do as the please, yet keeps a hand somewhere upon Nasir at all times. He strokes the other's hair, twisting a finger along his jaw and cheek as Nasir's hallows with suction. He wants Nasir to be comfortable, to know that Agron still desires him above all others, even if younger brother is sharing in physical comfort. 

“You know you are mine,” Agron murmurs, hot breath ghosting over Nasir's neck, “No one will ever have you the way I have you. No one will ever pull the noises from you that I can, fuck you like I can, make you want it every moment.”

“Agron,” Nasir whines, pulling off of Duro for just a moment to press a needy kiss to Agron's jaw. 

“Do you want me inside of you?” Agron asks, rubbing the flushed and wet tip of his cock against Nasir's thigh. 

Nasir's desperate eyes give it away, hand still moving quickly on Duro's cock. It doesn't take long to find bowl of oil near bed and slick cock, lining up against Nasir's already lose hole. With one sharp thrust, Agron buries himself to the hilt. 

Duro stares in awe at the mere size different between the two, gasping as Nasir's fingers scramble along his stomach, nails biting. Cock isn't forgotten though, as Duro reaches a hand around himself and begins to stroke in time with Agron's thrusts. 

“Fuck!” Nasir tosses his head back, anchoring himself against Agron's large shoulder. 

“We are being,” Agron grunts, teeth bared, “bad hosts. Allowing Duro to be on own.”

Duro means to shake his head, to allow them to provide enough entertainment that he will reach completion soon. Agron will have none of it though, shoving Nasir onto his hands and lightly smacking his ass. It's all the instruction Nasir needs as he wraps his trembling lips around Duro's flesh again. 

It's enough, Duro nearly bending in half as his hips thrust off the bed. He can feel his cock pulsing within the confines of the Syrian's throat, spurting hot and fast. It's a dizzying, frenzy. Nasir chokes but doesn't pull away, swallowing deeply as Agron pets his hair, but continues thrusting. 

The last thing he sees before Duro falls asleep is Agron pulling Nasir into his lap, silencing with his tongue. 

\- - - 

Agron wakes to the sunlight seeping around the door frame of the shack, warming his back and thighs. He’s curled around Nasir, arm cradling the smaller man against his powerful chest. Spot where Duro rested before is now vacant. 

Raising his head from pillow, Agron cranes his neck to search for younger brother. Bag of food and supplies lay by the door, yet Duro’s cloak and sword are missing from post in which it leaned on. He had seemed well when Nasir had woken up only few short hours ago to coax Duro into writhing pleasure again. 

“You stir yet my body refuses to wake,” Nasir murmurs, pressing firmly back against Agron’s morning need. 

“I only search for brother,” Agron murmurs, gently pressing lips to Nasir’s hair, “You need not awaken.”

“Search for Duro to satisfy you?”

Nasir does not raise his eyes, feeling heat settle in his stomach. Perhaps hunger crossed line that cannot be undone. 

“No,” Agron shakes his head, nuzzling against back of Nasir’s neck as he lays back down, “You are only one who can manage such.”

“Perhaps he retired to camp,” Nasir offers, rolling over to wrap arms tightly around Agron’s stomach, “too worn out from constant activity.”

“And you yet have energy?” Agron grins, rubbing a hand into Nasir's hair. 

“I will always find energy within your arms.”

Nasir kisses him firmly, mouth dry in morning light but warm and familiar. He tilts his head slightly, caressing the other's tongue with his own, coaxing it into playful competition. Teeth implant themselves gently in tip of Agron's tongue, Nasir leaning back to grin at gladiator.

“Do you ache from last night?” Agron asks, gently brushing hair from Nasir's face. 

“Yes, but-” Nasir blushes, “it is payment for night of such pleasure.”

Agron easily pulls him closer, kissing him again and moaning when thigh brushes his cock. Quick fingers find Nasir's opening, circling around it and find contents of last night's seed to still be wet inside of him. Idea strikes the gladiator, who moves onto his back.

“Come here.”

Agron gently pulls Nasir onto his knees, guiding him to kneel with legs spread above Agron's face.

“Agron, you mustn’t-” Nasir can not fathom Agron doing such to him. This is lowest of acts. Beyond sucking cock. What Agron suggests is only for the lowest of slaves. 

“Trust me.” Tongue laps gently at abused hole and Nasir's eyes flutter shut. 

Heat begins at the pit of Nasir's stomach, traveling up and out until sweltering heat seems to be swallowing him whole. Every stroke of Agron's tongue across his body sends jolts of pleasure along his spine, urging him to push into the intrusion, beg for the German to go deeper – faster – turn Nasir inside out.

Fluid smears across Agron's jaw, sticking to his stubble and neck. Taste of himself inside Nasir is unlike anything the German has had cross tongue, forcing him to lap harder at the skin – making Nasir's body give him more. For fear he may have missed single drop, Agron slips two fingers into the Syrian, spreading his body wide to fit tongue in past previous depth. 

With nose against curls of Nasir's balls, Agron can not escape deep musk of man on top of him. It is as if breathing in very essence of Nasir, the Syrian's noises drowned out by firm press of thighs to Agron's ears. Fuck Olympus and the heavens, Agron is sure that pure ecstasy has been found here. 

“Agron!” Nasir's scream startles the German, but vice-like tightening of his entrance gives away what has caused such. 

Liquid splatters on wall above bed, catching Nasir's chest and neck in sticky white. It's suddenly too much, body strained beyond capacity. Fingers scrambling to grip wall, Nasir falls to side with slack jawed look. 

Agron pets his back, coaxing him onto his stomach and raising one of Nasir's legs up. He can barely contain feeling of want burning in his chest, making it impossible for him to stop caressing Nasir's skin, fingers trailing to space between Nasir's firm cheeks. 

“It's too much,” Nasir moans, burying face in pillow. He claims inability to take more, yet presses back into Agron's prodding fingers. 

“You can, little one,” Agron trails tongue across smooth shoulder, nipping at the skin, “If freedom was fully grasped, I would keep you this way.”

He whispers, hot and damp, into Nasir's hair. 

“Would you enjoy such a life? To belong only in my bed? Pampered and lazy until I return to fuck you for hours?”

“You wish me to be your whore?” Nasir glances over his shoulder, smirk pulling on tired face. 

“Evidence proves you already are.”

Agron moves behind the Syrian, tilting Nasir's face to the side to kiss him. It's a wet slide of bruised lips and tongue, Nasir's eyes tightly closed. He is beyond words, too overwhelmed with pleasure and tinges of pain to reply.

“You are so good. I know you want more. You can be strong for me,” Agron murmurs, dragging tip of cock along Nasir's thigh, “Can't you?”

“Ah-Agron, please,” Nasir moans, digging the heels of his hands into the covers and pushing backwards. He can barely keep his eyes open, nearly blindfolded by his own fatigue. 

“Good boy,” Agron smirks, lightly smacking Nasir's hip. 

He grips him, slipping tip of cock just inside the loose and wet folds of Nasir's body. He's like a woman, dripping fluid – oil, spit, and seed – and gaping for more. Agron has no choice but to thrust fully inside, body shuddering when balls slap against Nasir's skin. 

He can feel Nasir crying, yet the Syrian does not pull away. If anything, he pushes back for more, raising leg more to allow Agron deeper inside of him. Agron is awed at capability of the man below him, knowing Nasir is well on his way to becoming hard once more. 

“Don't come yet,” Agron bites out, setting aggressive pace. 

He can not stop himself, fueled on and on by frenzy of finding completion in body made for him. Agron knows he's bruising the already abused flesh of the man below him, fingertip trails up and down Nasir's thigh. Sweat forces him to grip harder, moving one hand to Nasir's shoulder to make sure he does not hit head on wall before him. 

It's tantalizing, watching thick, monster of cock sliding into Nasir's tan and puckered hole. There is no resistant, only tight, sweltering heat. Agron rubs his fingers around the skin, nudging against the opening, fantasizing for just a moment about fitting whole fist inside boy below him.

Nasir's moans have turned to wails, frantically thrusting back onto Agron's cock and rubbing his own on blankets under him. Nothing exists beyond this bed. Nasir can not claim thought of where Agron starts and he ends, one entity of ecstasy and pleasure. 

“Not yet, little man,” Agron smacks his ass again, nails biting at the skin, “Hold on.”

“Please!” Nasir begs, tongue turning to sharp noises that Agron has never heard. It suddenly strikes the German that Nasir is past point of thought, beyond realizing he's shouting at Agron in Syrian. 

Agron only manages three thrusts before Nasir gives in without permission, fluid spilling once more onto the already ruined fabric below him. It's not the end though, as with another silent scream, Nasir comes again, cock giving feeble attempt – few drops of seed dribbling out of limp cock. 

The gladiator does not stop, raining praise down upon Nasir in German, slurring the words into the smaller man's hair. His vision is blackening, too exhausted and driven by need to slow thrusts or ease back. 

Nasir has stopped responding, laying still and giving weak moans every few moments. He's on the brink of sleep, unable to open eyes or press back as Agron uses his body. Still, swell of affection for gladiator can only grow as with a terrible shout, the German's spills inside him.

There is so much. It coats Nasir's inside, splattering up his thighs, ass, and back when Agron falls to the side. Droplets even manage to land within the Syrian's hair, matting it to his neck. Any other time, Nasir would have started an uproar, but blank look on Agron's face alerts Nasir the German is within realms of sleep. Nasir follows seconds after. 

\- - -

Sun is barely setting when Agron and Nasir step through rebellion camp's gates. Others who stand nearby stagger back, unsure of what to expect from couple. Spartacus, who had been overseeing preparing of evening meal, moves to greet the couple. 

Both are covered in red, vicious bruises and scratches, yet sport wide smiles and private glances. Spartacus has sense to not mention nor notice too obviously slightly limp in which Nasir now walks with. It warms the Bringer of Rain to see heightened mood and gentle caresses between the two though. It is much changed from fearful gladiators before. 

“Brother, you return well used,” Spartacus laughs, hugging Agron to his chest. Agron's answering laugh shakes the smaller man. 

“I am, yet I fear Nasir may be more than myself.” 

Nasir hugs Spartacus lightly before pulling back. He lingers in the other's personal space, long eyelashes blinking slowly, before he leans forward and presses lips to Spartacus'.

The Rebel King instantly pulls back, feeling flush reach his cheeks and neck. His eyes dart quickly to Agron, but the German does not seem angry or surprised. In fact, he leans forward to gently kiss Spartacus' cheek as well.

“Nasir and I wish-” Agron wraps arm around Nasir's shoulder, “to offer gratitude for much needed vacation.”

“It is unneeded. I am pleased you are in higher spirits.” Spartacus' mouth is found dry as Nasir draws closer, gently resting hand on Spartacus' chest. 

“Gratitude,” Nasir grins, looking through his eyelashes, “better offered out of other's sights.”

“Y-You-” Spartacus has not felt such shock in years. 

“We simply wish to offer praises to Rebel King.”

Nasir's hand slides to Spartacus' stomach and Agron crowds ins behind the Syrian, resting chin on his shoulder. The Thracian can only nod dumbly, overwhelmed by sheer force of desire that pools deep in spine. 

“Come then.”

Nasir grasps both gladiator’s hands and leads them towards the inner rooms of the villa. They all deserve break from such strenuous activities.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr](http://venomedveins.tumblr.com)


End file.
